Trust and a Night's Rest
by MoonLightView
Summary: All Clint Barton wanted was for the nightmares to stop, his life to return to normal, and for Tony and Bruce to stop forcing him to attend team-building activities. Fortunately, he may have found a solution for one of his problems. First ever Avengers story. Be gentle.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING**

…**..**

**Trust and a night's rest**

'_Breathe Clint, just breathe…'_

Clint Barton took a shuddering breath, trying his damn hardest to not hyperventilate because of a fucking nightmare. He stood there in his bathroom staring at his reflection in the mirror. His head was disheveled, his eyes were blood-shot, and well…he looked like shit. But despite looking like a total mess right now Clint couldn't help but feel a little relieved. No glowing blue eyes staring back at him.

Turning on the faucet of the sink, Clint cupped his hands under the water and splashed it on his face. The cool refreshing liquid helped to wash away any remnants of sleep and the memories of his latest nightmare. After drying his face off the male walked back into his bedroom and stared at his alarm clock.

2:45 a.m.

Too early for him to be up, heck, it was too early for anyone to be up. Clint thought about going back to sleep, but…

_Blood was splattered everywhere. On the walls, on the floor and…and on his hands. Body parts were strewn all over the floor while dead, lifeless eyes of all too familiar faces stared up at him, accusing him for their demise. He could almost hear their voices calling out to him, asking him, why? Why did he kill them? Why did he betray them? Why…why…why…?_

Barton snapped himself out of his tormented thoughts. There would be nothing but nightmarish anguish tinted in a shade of blue waiting for him once his head hit the pillow. With a small sigh he decided to leave his room and walk around for a bit for a change of scenery. Who knows, it might help him calm down a bit. After a elevator ride down to the main floor where the team, except for him, hung out together, Clint briefly wondered what he could do at 2 in the morning, but stopped when he remembered where he was.

Stark Tower or Avengers Tower has everything you'll ever need and more. Movies, video-games, a fully stocked kitchen, a gym, a shooting range, and yadda…yadda…yadda he stopped paying attention to Stark's explanation of the team's new home after he heard shooting range. Well the shooting range was out of the question because he didn't trust himself with a weapon at this time. Barton didn't want to watch a movie because he knew he'd just fall asleep and encounter more nightmares. It was too early to try to cook breakfast. And he couldn't use the gym because he had doctor's orders to not do any strenuous activities until his body had healed. After going on a mission that had you jumping off of buildings and getting shot at, of course your body was going to need some time off.

"Well this sucks," Clint muttered to himself while running a hand through his messy blond hair. He was about to give up and go back to his room until he spotted a familiar greenish-gray duffel bag sitting in a far away corner of the room. It was his personal bag that was filled with his personal belongings, all ready packed up just in case he needed to leave the tower and go into hiding someplace because he did something stupid.

The blond wondered if tonight would be the night that he left. The nightmares weren't getting any better and he was always worried he would become compromised again, that Loki still had some kind of magical hold on him and was waiting for the right time to pull his puppet strings on him again. He shuddered at the thought. It wouldn't affect the team if he left, would it? He was just a guy with a bow and had far too many mental and emotional scars to deal with. It might do the team of broken heroes some good to have someone stable to replace him. Just as he was about to walk over to his bag the elevator door opened and two tired, but accomplished looking scientists came in. They seemed surprised to see him awake.

"Banner and Stark, I trust you didn't blow up anything."

Tony Stark grinned as he approached the archer. "No explosions tonight, but Bruce and I are working on a super special project."

Clint scoffed softly. When were those two not working on a project? "So what kind of "special" project is this now?" he asked.

Tony tweaked the archer's nose in response. "Sorry Legolas, but that's secret until later."

Bruce decided to intervene before anything turned violent. And judging from the look on Clint's face, things were definitely about to turn violent. "Come on, Tony. Let's leave Clint alone and go to bed. We have that meeting at SHIELD tomorrow."

Whining soon followed. "We have another meeting to go to?! Those things are so boooring!"

Banner rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Clint, who looked like he was about to keel over. "Are you okay, Clint? It's a little strange to see you up so early."

Barton shrugged his shoulders at the doctor's question. He wasn't in the mood to explain his sleeping habits and he sure as hell didn't need to give anyone another reason to question his sanity. "I'm doing alright. Just came down to get something to drink."

"Ooh a drink, excellent idea!" exclaims Tony with a bright smile. "We've made so much progress on our experiment that we should celebrate!" With that said the billionaire rushed over to his bar and started searching for an appropriate drink.

"Tony, it's three in the morning!"

"It's five o'clock somewhere in the world."

'_And that's my cue to leave,'_ Clint thought before heading towards the elevator. But before he could make it, someone grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Where do you think you're going, Legolas? We're suppose to be celebrating!"

"And what the hell am _**I **_celebrating for?" The blond was trying hard to stop himself wrenching his arm free and hurting the genius.

"You're alive, aren't you? That's reason to celebrate," the older man responded with that insufferable smirk of his. "We can also use this time to bond. You're always off somewhere by yourself; makes me think that you don't like us at all."

Pouting. This man was seriously pouting at him. Already this day was shaping out to be terrible. He let his eyes wander to Dr. Banner who had a shy, apologetic look on his face, but he could also see that the man was wondering the same thing. Wonderful, just simply wonderful.

"I…don't **not** like you guys," the archer starts quietly while trying get Tony to let go of his arm. "I just like spending time alone sometimes."

Bruce frowned before saying, "But that's…"

"…All the damn time!" Tony finished for him.

It was obvious that the two scientists weren't going to let this one go, so with a heavy sigh, "Alright I'll try to join in on the team building activities, but I'm not making any promises." Stark grinned triumphantly at the answer while Banner let out a sigh of relief accompanied with a shy smile.

"Now about that drink. We have two reasons to celebrate now!"

"Can I have my arm back now?"

"Oh, is this your arm?"

What in the world did he get himself into?

**XxXxXxX**

Clint buried his head in his arms and sighed. Tony was right, these meetings were boring. Director Fury decided that the Avengers needed to be re-educated when it came to saving the city. For example, when it came to defeating huge monsters or invading aliens, try not to knock over so many damn buildings in the process! Number two: When the battle is over make sure that someone has an eye on the Hulk so he doesn't go smashing anything else. Number three: Keep fights between Thor and the Hulk to a minimum so they don't go smashing each other while destroying things in their path.

The archer was sure that the list went on and on, but he couldn't keep himself awake to listen to it all. The doze was short, and the only reason why he woke up was because the area around him had gone silent. Unburying his head from his arms Clint saw his boss and his team were all staring at him.

"Am I boring you, Agent Barton?" asks Fury with an irritated one-eyed glare.

Oh crap.

Gulping silently the agent quickly straightened himself up in his chair and tried to appear more awake than he was. "Of course not, sir. You know I live for your much needed lectures and words of advice."

"Really? Cuz it looked like you were giving all of your undivided attention to the table, Katniss. And to be honest I'm a little jealous because you never show me that kind of attention, and I build all kinds of arrows and stuff for you!" Of course Tony Stark had to put his two cents into the conversation, because really, no SHIELD meeting was complete without it. And because of that unneeded comment from the billionaire Clint felt totally justified for kicking the man underneath the table, **hard**.

There was a shout and a curse, and all eyes were on Tony instead of him. And for the first time in months, Barton felt a smile appear on his lips. The meeting continued a short time later and the archer was glad he managed to stay awake this time even if Tony was glaring at him and muttering promises of revenge.

**XxXxX**

Natasha was giving him that look again. That blank look she always gave him whenever she was worried about him. And why would she be worried about him? Well, she was going on a mission with Captain America and Thor while he, Tony, and Bruce stayed at the tower. Normally this wouldn't be a problem since the two were used to going on separate missions, but since Clint wasn't acting like his normal self, Natasha wasn't up to letting him out of her sight yet.

Barton inwardly sighed. He wished she wouldn't worry so much. If she was distracted then it could cause problems during the mission. He would be fine without her watching over him. Sure he didn't like the idea of being left alone with two crazy scientists, but he could make due.

"I'll be alright, Tasha," Clint says with a small smile.

This seemed to have worked. "You'd better be," she replies with a tiny smile of her own. She finally finishes packing up her bag and they both leave her room. Clint could tell that his partner wanted to say more to him, but in the end she kept her mouth shut as they walked towards the elevator. Once making it onto the main floor the female gives her partner a sharp jab in the side. "Promise me that you'll behave."

Clint glared at the woman while rubbing his aching side. "I'm always being have," he responded with a smirk only to be jabbed again.

"And I want you to avoid being Stark and Banner's lab rat. The last thing I want to come home to is you running here with an extra arm or something."

"An extra arm? That's the most uncreative thing I've ever heard," says Stark, who happened to be walking by. "If me and Bruce were to experiment on Barton here, we would make him sprout bird wings so he could fly. That way he wouldn't have to worry about anyone having to catch him when he's thrown off a building."

"As tempting as that sounds I don't want to see Clint with bird wings either." She paused for a second and then continued. "And it's "Bruce and I" not "me and Bruce"."

Stark crossed his arms and looked away while muttering something under his breath about Natasha being a Grammar Nazi. When he felt the hard stare of the lone female practically start to burn the side of his face Tony lifted his right hand the air and said, "I, Tony Stark promise not to conduct any experiments on Clint Barton. There, you happy now, red?"

"Nor will you try to redesign any of my bows and arrows?" added Clint.

Stark only stuck his tongue out at him. "I'm not promising that."

"Children, children, let's not start," intervenes Bruce once again. "Natasha, Cap and Thor are waiting for you on the quinjet. I promise to make sure that Tony and Clint don't kill each other while you're away on the mission."

"Thank you, Bruce. I'll hold you to that."

**XxXxXxX**

The insistent knocking on the door was wearing thin on Barton's nerves. He figured if he just ignored the noise then the person on the other side of the door would think he was sleeping and would decide to leave.

***Knock…knock…knock…knock***

Apparently this was not the case. The archer let himself endure two more minutes of repeated thumping on the door before he finally had enough. Wrenching the door open with more force than necessary, Clint was more than ready to rip Tony's head off…only to realize that it was Bruce who had came a-knocking. Well this was unusual. "Doctor Banner…um…hello?"

Said doctor gave a small smile and said, "Tony's initiating a mandatory movie night right now. He says bring a blanket and a pillow as well."

Clint cocks an eyebrow and notices that the good doctor had said items tucked underneath his right arm. "I'm not really feeling up to watching a movie tonight." He started to close the door, but to his surprise the older man held it opened.

"I thought you said you were going to start hanging out with us?"

"I did say that. But I didn't mean today."

It was right then that the older man gave Clint a face. Now this particular face was known as the Disappointed Face by Tony. The people who generally used this look was Captain America, Pepper Potts, and Bruce Banner, and usually it was directed at Tony if he had done something stupid. But now this look was directed at him, and it was only thing stopping him from pushing Bruce from the door and slamming it in his face.

"…Fine," Clint muttered after he was unable to endure the Disappointed Face from Bruce anymore. He moved to grab the requested blanket and pillow, and followed the man to the elevator without further complaint. Besides, he did sorta owe the man for reminding him that there was meeting at SHIELD. His sudden disappearance would have raised all sorts of hell for SHIELD and for the Avengers.

"You don't have to look so uptight, Clint. I'm somewhat sure that you'll have a good time watching a movie with Tony and I."

"You know, Banner, if you keep this up I might have to put you on my list of people I want to avoid."

The scientist chuckled. "I hardly see you around the tower anyway, so I kind of figured that I was already on that list."

Barton couldn't help but laugh as well.

**XxXxXxX**

The movie turned out to be a pretty good one, but Clint would be damned if he told Tony that. He shoveled another handful of popcorn into his mouth as the serial killer in the movie chain-sawed a screaming girl's head off. Blood went flying everywhere and Clint had to force his mind from thinking back to his latest nightmare.

"Man, that's a lot of blood spewing from that girl," muttered Tony before slurping loudly on his soda. "Hey does the human body really gush out all that blood when its head is cut off?"

"It sure does," mumbled Clint. Though he wasn't proud of it, he was used to seeing bloody deaths like this in the real world because of his life before SHIELD. Tony nods his head before grabbing a handful of popcorn from Barton's bowl, much to the archer's chagrin.

"What the hell, Stark? Eat your own damn popcorn from your own bowl!"

"I ran out of popcorn! Besides, being a part of a team means you have to share!"

"Ew I think I saw you lick your hand before you stuck it in my bowl! That's disgusting! Here, take the rest of it, I don't want anymore!"

"C'mon you guys, stop fighting and watch the movie," mutters Bruce.

Barton let out a huff before pushing his now Stark-tainted popcorn into the billionaire's lap and continued to watch the movie. An hour later the movie ended with the hero finally taking out the serial killer and getting the only surviving girl in the end. Good movie, he thought despite getting his popcorn stolen.

"Where are you going, Clint?" asked Bruce as Clint got up and began walking away.

"To sleep," the archer responds. _'Or really just stare up at the ceiling to avoid nightmares again.'_ Tony didn't seem to like the idea because once again the archer found himself being pulled by his arm back towards the couch. Apparently he wasn't allowed to leave yet until he watched the second movie that they planned tonight. Stupid scientists. Stupid double-features.

"Be honest with me, Banner. The real reason you want me to sit here is because Stark did the same thing to you when you were the only one to move in at the time. And now that other people have moved in you're forcing this on them as well."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said the gamma specialist in an innocent tone. But the mischievous gleam in his eyes said otherwise. The second movie finally ended with the good guys winning in the end, and Tony declared that he received an idea from the movie for their little experiment and promptly carted Bruce off to the labs.

"Guess that means I'll be the one cleaning up," Clint says to no one in particular. He then grabbed a broom from the other room and began sweeping up the excess popcorn that wasted to the floor thanks to Tony's carelessness. Afterwards he folded the "science bros" blankets and placed them in a nice pile with the pillows before grabbing his own things to go back to his room. The archer thought about taking the elevator but decided that it had been too long since he had taking the scenic route amongst the air vents, knowing full well doing so would irritate his "landlord".

Instead of climbing straight to his room the male chose to explore every inch of the vents to remap them in his mind. As always the vents were clean and well maintained all thanks to rumored psychotic cleaning robot that lurked somewhere within the metal tunnels. Clint hadn't had a run-in with the cleaning menace and he wanted to keep it that way. If he, a super skilled spy from SHIELD couldn't handle a simple cleaning robot he'd never hear the end of it from Tony. His trek continued at a slow even pace, inwardly wondering how long before he tired himself out to the point that he wouldn't dream at all. This train of thought continued for a while until he heard a slight whirring sound behind him.

Tri-colored eyes dilate in fear as a soft glow emitting from somewhere further up in the vents grew brighter and brighter until the archer was face-to-face with a demonic looking cleaning droid. The two stared at each other for a moment before the mechanical menace beeped loudly and surged towards the archer.

This was sooo not how he imagined his death.

**XxXxXxX**

If Clint's head wasn't pounding to the beat of an epic drum solo and his body wasn't twisted up like a pretzel, he'd probably would have thought that the situation he had just barely escaped from to be hilarious. He had to give credit to both Stark and his robot for being so damn persistent. That thing chased him left and right throughout the vents with no signs of letting up. If the robot had been human then Clint would guess that it would've made a good SHIELD agent. Unfortunately (fortunately) Clint had forgotten about a sheer drop in the vents that led to the lower floors and soon he had found himself hurtling down into darkness for quite a distance until he hit the bottom. It hurt like a bitch, but the fall could've been much worse if it hadn't been for his pillow and blanket. It was wonder how he managed to keep a hold on his possessions while being hunted down.

The SHIELD agent slowly untangled his limbs and kept on moving lest he encountered the savage robot again. And even if it wasn't directly Stark's fault, Clint was going to punch him anyway.

"Tony, could you please be careful with that mixture before you waste it?"

"Relax Bruce, I've got it."

'_Huh those two are still at it?'_ thought Clint as he made his way to the sound of their voices. Soon enough he came to a metal grate and peeked through. There beneath him were Stark and Banner working on their "super special" project. _'Wonder if there's gonna be an explosion this time.'_ He thought about following his basic instinct to spy and gather information on what they were doing just to annoy Tony, after all, the billionaire didn't respect his privacy.

The archer made himself comfortable as he listened to the scientists babble on about different equations, mixtures, and metals. It was pretty interesting stuff, but soon his mind started to go blissfully numb and he started to doze off. His last conscious thought was hoping that the homicidal robot didn't come after him again.

**END CHAPTER**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

…**..**

Tri-colored eyes shot open at the amount of quiet around him. In a haste to figure out where he was Clint banged his head hard against something hard above him before silently cursing to himself. Memories from the night before made him realize that he was still in the air vents, wrapped tightly in his blanket. After getting free from the confines of the blanket Clint peeked through the grate below and saw that the two scientists had retired for the night.

'_On second thought, make that morning,'_ thought Clint after looking at his watch which read 4:15. Stifling a yawn the male made his way through the vents to go back to his room; this time keeping an eye out for the screw-loose robot. A few minutes later Clint opened the metal grate above his room and dropped inside. He glanced at his bed and briefly wondered if he should go back to sleep, but to his surprise he actually felt pretty well rested already. In fact, this was the first time in months that he had slept a night through without having any nightmares.

Huh. Felt kinda refreshing.

Giving his body a good stretch that was not unlike a cat, Barton headed towards the bathroom to perform his morning rituals. Brush this, wash that, comb there, and stare into the mirror to make sure eerie blue eyes weren't staring back. Finish with big sigh of relief if everything was normal.

It was still dark outside with the moon still hanging in the pre-morning sky. The air outside was probably cool, making it good weather to go for a run. He was long overdue for a good run thanks to those pesky nightmares messing up his usual sleep schedule. With a smile he quickly donned a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie and quickly made his way to the elevator.

**XxXxXxX**

Breaths were coming out in small pants as Clint rounded another block. His muscles were aching and burning, letting him know he was getting a good workout and it only pushed him to run farther so he could make up for all the time he missed. The air was cool and refreshing just liked he hoped and streets were almost completely deserted. After a good run like this, the archer planned to wind down with a nice cup of coffee.

The sun was starting to peek over the tall buildings, casting a beautiful glow over the city and alerting the citizens of a new day. Early birds were now stumbling out of their homes to either head off to work or go jogging like he was. And it wouldn't be long now until the streets were crowded with millions of people. Knowing this, Clint decided to wrap up his jog and head back to the tower. But as he got closer to the tower he could tell that something wasn't right. Someone was tailing him.

Interesting…

Barton cast a quick look behind him to check out his stalker. Male, brunette, medium build, and just a little taller than him. He looked familiar, but he wasn't entirely sure if he's met the man before. Oh well, he'd find out soon enough. Turning down an empty alley he slowed down his pace in order for his tail to catch up before stopping completely. Clint then turned to face the man, crossing his arms and sending him an annoyed glare.

"Is there a reason why you're following me?" he asked before smirking lightly. "Or is this just a really popular jogging path?"

The other man smirked as well before pulling out a concealed blade. "Just wanted to let you know that it's nothing personal." With that said, the pursuer lunged towards the archer with the intent to kill.

The archer managed to dodge the swipes of the blade with ease. "From the way you're swinging at me, I think this is personal." He grabbed the assailant's arm, successfully stopping the knife from impaling him before punching the man hard in the face, causing the knife skid across the ground a few feet away from the men.

The brunette swore loudly while holding his bleeding nose before attacking again with another knife. This time managing to score a direct hit to Clint's cheek and forearms. Stalker guy was good, he would give him that. Definitely not some amateur or a random mugger looking for a quick buck. He dodged another blow from the weapon before crouching low to ground and kicking the man's feet out from under him. Once he was down Clint quickly pounced on him, easily pinning him down with a knife to his throat.

"Ok Stalker guy, I want answers! Who are you, and why were you trying to kill me?"

The brunette gulped as the bladed edge of his knife pressed harder against his throat before glaring at the blond. "Let's just say you had it coming to you."

"Uh-huh, well with the kinda work that I do I have a lot of things coming to me, so you're gonna have to be a little bit more specific." When the guy refused to say anymore Clint decided he wasn't going to waste anymore of his morning on him. "Let this be a warning to you, don't fucking follow me again!" A strong punch was then delivered to the man's jaw to knock him unconscious. Afterwards, Clint moved Stalker Guy's limp body to a metal dumpster before dropping him in. For the man's own sake he had better wake up before Waste Management showed up to take the trash away. Either way it wasn't his problem anymore.

With blood now flowing free from the wounds and energy starting to fade Clint leaned heavily against the dumpster and sighed. His morning was now ruined, he still had to make the run back to Avengers Tower, and if any of the Science Bros were awake he would have to explain the cuts on his skin which was definitely not something he wanted to deal with today.

Another sigh was released as the agent made his way from the alley. No one had witnessed him knocking a man out and leaving him in trash, so he was in the clear.

'_Now I just have to make it back to the tower before I lose anymore blood,' _Clint thought as he rubbed some of the blood off his face with the end of his shirt, frowning when he saw how much was on it. _'Hopefully no one will freak out because of this.'_

**XxXxXxX**

Of course Bruce would be up at this time despite burning the midnight oil the night before; of course he would freak out when he saw his teammate sporting new bandages around his arms and cheek. And of course Clint would have to explain what had happened.

"My God, Clint, why didn't you come straight home instead of going to get coffee if you got attacked?!" And of course Bruce would ask that too.

Clint shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant manner. Stuff like this happened to him all the time; it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. "The coffee place was close by and it had bandages. And besides, I got you and Stark something. It's no big deal." He tries the bat the doctor's hands away from his cheek, but was unsuccessful. Stupid Hulk strength.

Bruce gently pulled back the adhesive dressing and gasped at what he saw. The cut was long and pretty deep, but it was also looking sickly discolored. "There must have been something on that knife to cause this," he muttered before inspecting the archer's pupils. "How do you feel? Does your head feel funny?"

'_How many doctors are gonna ask me that question?' _Clint thought sourly. He knew the man didn't mean what the other doctors and shrinks meant, but that question still irked him. But now that he thought about it he did feel…not okay. The cuts were starting to burn like that surface of the sun and his heart-rate was speeding up. Inwardly he was ranting at himself for not thinking about this possibility. Of course the stalker would've known that he couldn't beat the archer, so it made sense that he would think to poison him.

"This looks serious, Clint! And then you went to get coffee afterwards! That probably made it worse!"

"I can take **your** coffee back, you know? I will give it Stark or drink it myself; do you want me to do that?"

Banner looked unimpressed at the threat. "I think I'll keep my coffee, thanks. I'm going to need it to deal with you." The doctor pulled back the wrappings on the struggling archer's arms, tutting softly because they looked worse. "Come on Clint, time to go to the medical wing."

Barton heard what Bruce said, was willing to do what Bruce said, but his body wasn't exactly cooperating with either of them. "Thinking my legs are a little numb, doc." Could this day get any worse?

***Ding***

The elevator door opened and out came Tony Stark dressed in designer jeans and his favorite AB/DC shirt. "I smell coffee!"

Yep, it could get worse.

"So who went out and bought coffee? Is it Starbuck's coffee? Did anyone get me anything? And…and what the hell happened to you, Legolas?" The billionaire made his way over to the pair and shook his head at what he saw. "Damn Barton, I hope the other guy looks worse!"

Despite the numbness that was spreading throughout the rest of his body Clint couldn't help but smirk. "Don't you know it?" Before the two could get into the details of the current state of Clint's attacker, Bruce quickly reminded them that their teammate needed medical attention and instructed Tony to help him drag Clint to medical. Of course Tony griped and complained on how heavy his archer friend was, but he stopped when the man showed that he was too tired to respond.

Once the two scientists got the blond situated into bed Bruce administered an antidote to cure Clint's paralysis. Afterwards he began running a few tests to make sure there wasn't anything else in his friend's bloodstream that would affect his heath. "You know I'm actually starting to wonder who really got the last laugh here."

Even with the medication working its sweet magic on the agent's limbs, the man refused to respond to that statement. Stark, on the other hand found the comment hilarious and was laughing his head off for a while before sobering up. All joking aside, someone had attacked his friend and teammate and that was really not okay.

"So who was the guy that attacked you? Anyone we know?"

"Don't really know. Dude said it wasn't personal before he tried to gut me like a fish."

"Is it possible he was just some random thief?" asked Bruce.

"Nah, the guy was trained and he really only seemed interested in seeing me dead."

"Maybe you've crossed paths before on some crazy SHIELD mission," Stark added. "Maybe you got him locked up, or someone hired him to take you out because you got **them **locked up."

That idea sounded entirely possible. Being a super spy/assassin for SHIELD was an easy way to make enemies, but right now Clint was too tired to contemplate why some guy wanted him dead. Luckily for him Bruce had took notice of this and decided that he needed to rest.

"Okay Clint, as team doctor I'm putting you on bed rest for a day or two until I get the test results back. If I see you out of this room I will be forced to bring in the Other Guy. Are we clear?"

The images of the Hulk dragging Clint back to bed were terrifying in his mind. But it was kinda of insulting to think he needed to be threatened in order to stay put. When he voiced his feelings on this Stark had reminded him that according to SHIELD records the agent had escaped medical while still severely injured over a hundred times.

"Why would leave the hospital if you had two busted legs?!"

"I don't know. Why do **you** need to hack into SHIELD's databases and read my personal files?!"

"Because it's easier to learn about the people I'm working with!" Tony then turns to Bruce and says, "I think we should strap him down just incase he tries to escape."

"Tempting, but I don't think we need to go that far. I'm sure Agent Barton will do as he's told, right Agent Barton."

If Clint could cross his arms he would've done so by now. "Yes sir, _Doctor Banner. _I'll stay right here." Bruce gave him a look before nodding and began making his way out the door. Meanwhile Stark was ruffling the blond's hair, promising that if he was good he would bring him back something special. "You're lucky I can't move my arms properly, Stark!"

The older man smirked in response. "I know; that's why I'm doing this."

His expression then changed to a more serious one, and Barton would be lying if said it didn't surprise him. Since when did the Tony Stark get serious about anything?

"Try to behave and get some rest, okay?"

This was weird. Stark was being weird. This whole day has been weird. "Yeah, sure, whatever."

Smiling again the genius made his way out the door. "We'll be back to check on you in a little while."

Once Tony was gone Clint began to serious wonder if being a scientist made people crazy. He decided to think about it later after he took a short nap. Hopefully then he would be more limber. But as he tried to get into a more comfortable position, he found his body unwilling to move the way he wanted it to. After five minutes of trying Clint finally gave up and glared ruefully at the ceiling.

Worst day ever.

**END CHAPTER**

…

Sorry for the wait. For some reason the second chapter is always the hardest to write.

Thanks for the reviews and thanks for the follows. And I will try to update real soon.

Until next time, **BYE!**


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING**

….

"So what are we gonna do about our resident archer? Should we be concerned that someone attacked him for some unknown reason?" asked Tony as he and his science bro made their way back to the medical floor where they hoped Clint was still there. "Since I don't want Legolas getting hurt even worse and I don't want Natasha killing us for it, I suggest the buddy-system be used every time one of us leaves the tower."

Bruce gave his friend a look before saying, "It seems that you've forgotten how independent Clint it is. How many of us did it take to pull him off of you after you told him that you injected a tracking device into his body?"

Tony shuddered at the memory. "It took you, Thor, and Cap to pull him off," he muttered while absent-mindedly rubbing his neck. "I think I still have bruises…"

"And I think that Clint would want to handle this issue by himself. And if he needs help then I'm sure that he'll…okay scratch that. If it looks like he really, really needs help then we'll step in. But until then, we'll respect his privacy and independence."

"You make it sound like it was a bad idea to put tracking devices on archer-boy. Do you know how many times he and Natasha had just popped up out of nowhere? I have a heart condition, people!"

"And I don't?"

"…Fair enough."

When the two finally made it to Clint's room a bet had been made on whether Clint was resting in bed like he was suppose to or was disobeying doctor's orders as usual. But as soon as they opened the door…

"Well, at least he's still in the bed," muttered Bruce when he saw what Clint was doing.

"Yeah, but he's not exactly resting…"

**XxXxXxX**

"Aw Birdie, are you still sulking?"

'_Damn straight I'm still sulking!'_ Clint thought, crossing his arms and glaring at the billionaire. Buddy system had been initiated for a day since the two geniuses had caught him doing something he wasn't supposed to. And since his body was still weak from the poison he couldn't punch Stark in the face to show his objection to the idea.

Apparently bench-pressing very expensive medical equipment was frowned upon. Especially when you're on bed rest. And it sure didn't help if you drop it more than once…twice…okay maybe four times. The fourth time really wasn't even his fault. If Stark and Banner had just knocked before they came barging into his room they wouldn't have surprised him and they probably wouldn't have noticed the several dings on the machine.

"Why do even want me here in the first place? Aren't you two working on some "super secret" project that you don't want anyone to see?"

"We decided to work on something else while you're in here, so no worries."

Clint inwardly sighed and continued to watch the Science Bros from his perch as they conducted some kind of mad experiment on some poor defenseless microwave. He shuddered when they started "attacking" the device with a screwdriver. May it rest in peace. Unable to watch the mechanical gore any longer Clint turned back to the little notebook he had in his lap and continued writing things down.

"Whatcha writing in that book of yours, Barton?" asked Tony. "Making a report to give to Fury?"

Barton cocked an eyebrow at the question. "Yeah, it's to warn him and every member of SHIELD to hide their microwaves lest they be dismantled and turned into toasters."

Tony looked annoyed and was more than ready to chuck a wench at the blond. "For the last time, we are not making a toaster!"

Barton waved his hand dismissively and went to his notebook. Yeah, yeah, so you say." He then had to dodge the wench that Tony threw and happily threw it back. This earned him a pained groan from the billionaire when it scored a direct hit to his stomach. Huh, guess his arm was getting better.

Bruce managed to stop Tony from throwing anything else and soon the two began working on their project again.

Time continued to pass in a gentle lull and Clint found himself nodding off despite his best efforts to stay awake. He was in a light snooze for around twenty minutes until he felt something slipping out of his hands. Thanks to his SHIELD training the agent reflexively tightened his hand on his notebook while the other struck out to hit the would-be thief.

Big mistake.

"Son of a bitch!" the archer cried as he clutched his now injured hand. Turns out his thief was just one of Stark's robots, Dummy. And judging from the inventor's laughter Tony had told his robot to retrieve his notebook from him while he was asleep. How very Stark-like.

"Ha-ha-ha I'm s-sorry Hawky, I didn't know that you'd react that way!" cackled Tony. "Just know that it could've been worse. You could've punched Bruce and then where would we be?" When his last comment got a shudder from both men he laughed harder.

Bruce looked like he was struggling to hold in his laughter, but still managed to look disapprovingly at his friend. "Stop it, Tony. It wasn't…that funny…" A chuckled accidently slipped from his mouth. "Do you want me to look at hand to make sure it's not broken, Clint?"

The blond flexed his fingers experimentally before shaking his head no. "Nah, I'm good," he muttered. Even if it was busted he wouldn't want to risk being put back on bed-rest by Bruce.

When Tony noticed that the blond was glaring daggers at him he said, "None of this would've happened if you would just tell us what you were writing down. Have you learned nothing about sharing from the other day?"

Tri-colored eyes glared harder at Tony. "Yeah, I learned your definition of sharing is different from mine. Instead of asking for permission you just take things without consent!"

"Maybe the reason why I take things from you is because I know that if I ask, you would say no!"

'_Damn straight I would!'_ thought Clint, but he wasn't about to admit that and prove Tony right. "…You don't know that." Un-holy glee lit up in Tony's hazel brown eyes and the archer knew he had said the wrong thing.

"Then may I see what you're writing in that notebook of yours?"

Barton felt his eye twitch, but he didn't say anything. Opening his book he tore out a page, folded it into a paper airplane, and threw it perfectly to the inventor. "Since you failed to say please, you only get one page."

Bruce watched as his science bro's face turn from happy to confused to angry in three seconds. _'I wonder if the page is blank,'_ he thought before peaking over the other man's shoulder. What he saw was a drawing of Iron Man getting squashed by a large rock. Again, a chuckle escaped from his mouth before he tried to smother it under his hand. "Maybe you should've said please?"

Clint smirked broadly because it was a fact that Tony Stark did **not** say please. EVER. And Clint was going to use that fact to his advantage to keep the contents of his notebook a secret from the billionaire.

As expected Tony pouted and complained about the unfairness of it all, but promised revenge and vowed that he wouldn't give up until he read the little black book. "But for now, I would like a drink."

**XxXxXxX**

Blue.

Really blue.

It was the deepest, most unnatural blue liquid that Clint had ever saw and the man couldn't help but flinch when it was set down in front of him. Stark didn't know. There was no way that he could've known that the blue sitting in front of him was the one that haunted his nightmares in the dead of night. The blue that he checked for in his eyes just to make sure he wasn't compromised. And the blue that marked him as a killer for a deranged demi-god.

Tony noticed that his blond friend wasn't drinking his beverage. "Just try one sip and you'll love it," assured the inventor as he fixed the second drink for Bruce. "I know you like to drink."

Clint looked at the billionaire with a masked expression. Even if Tony did know, he wasn't that much of an asshole to actually do something like…this. He looked back at the drink and shuddered.

Liquid blue mind-control.

Barton had no desire to drink it whatsoever. He needed an escape. "Haven't I spent enough time with you guys already?"

Bruce shrugged at the question and said, "You do have a lot of time to make up for."

Well that ploy didn't work. Thanks for that, Banner.

Taking a deep breath the archer willed his mind to stay away from the broken memories that associated themselves with that eerie blue color. Loki was gone. The mind-control was gone. All that's left is his own mind, his own body, and his own feelings. He was going drink this alcoholic beverage and enjoy every drop, damn it! With that thought in mind, his hand slowly reached for the crystal glass. When his fingertips touched the glass Barton had to stop himself from recoiling.

The glass was ice cold which meant that the drink would go down cold as well. The coldness would fill his body and it wouldn't be long before the icy feeling reached his mind…

"Clint, are you alright?"

The archer's eyes snapped up to see Bruce's coffee brown eyes staring at him with a look of concern. He really hoped that his anxiety wasn't showing on his face. "Yeah, I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?"

Banner opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. Instead he stared down at his own drink that Stark had made him. It was green in color and Clint could see something in the doctor's eyes that he was sure was similar in his own.

Unease.

It could've been from a number of things. Either Bruce was unsure about Tony's self-proclaimed bartending license, or was it something deeper. Maybe as deep as his own problem. The men looked up from their drinks and caught each other's eyes again.

"You wanna trade drinks?"

Both men were surprised when they asked the question at the same time before smiling. They changed glasses while Tony's back was turned, and downed their new beverages quickly before trading the glasses back. The drink went down cool, but warmth instantly blossomed in the archer's chest. It made him feel a little at ease. Safe even.

Tony finally finished making his own orange colored cocktail and stared at his two friends expectantly. "So did you guys enjoy your drinks?" The two men looked at each other before nodding. "Good, then you'll love the next round of drinks. You wanna try what Bruce had, Legolas?"

"Sure, it tast…er…it looked good. What was it called again?"

Luckily for Barton, the billionaire didn't notice the slip. "His was called Green Flash and yours was Icy Blue."

'_Wow, how fitting,'_ Clint thought dryly, but he reminded himself that Stark meant no harm. In fact, he probably just picked the drinks at random. Though he did have to wonder how much liqueur the billionaire put in his drink if it was already having an effect on Banner. Suspicious sneaky bastard.

More drinks had been made and this time Barton took his time to enjoy his drink. To him, the emerald green color was more soothing than blue and felt much safer too. He guessed that to Bruce, blue was calm, which was something he always strived to be.

The night wore on with Stark creating more drinks for them to sample and Clint couldn't deny that he was having a good time with the two scientists once again. But Clint had to report to the Helicarrier early in the morning, so he needed to go to bed soon.

"Yeah, I need get to bed as well. If I'm late for another meeting because of a hangover…" Tony shuddered in fear. "…Pepper will freaking kill me."

The three men quickly cleaned up their dirty glasses and afterwards made their way to the elevator to go to bed. Once the elevator reached the archer's floor he bid his two teammates goodnight.

"G'night Stark. G'night Bruce." He inwardly laughed when Stark looked confused while Bruce looked pleasantly surprised.

"H-How come you call Bruce by his first name, but not me?!" sputtered the billionaire.

The blonde shrugged his shoulders, but gave a little smile to Bruce. "Just because." The metal doors closed before Stark could get out another word and Clint happily went to his room.

**XxXxXxX**

"Master Barton, would you like me to inform Master Banner that you are unwell?"

Clint only groaned in pain as his stomach lurched and the contents made their way into the toilet. He tried to forget about the nightmare he had just experienced, but it was proving to be impossible.

_The room was all too quiet and guilt was overwhelming. Blood was all over his hands and floor and nobody in the room was alive except for him. It was so quiet, so cold and in the corner of his eye he could see the fallen god smirking at him._

When Jarvis had asked him again if he needed assistance he managed to mutter a small, no. After he was sure that his stomach was empty the archer went to the sink to wash the foul taste from his mouth. Knowing he wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon Clint decided to grab his bow and arrows and head down to the shooting range.

He'd shoot away his problems tonight.

**END CHAPTER**

…

Another chapter done! YAY!

Thanks for the review from Bookdancer, PineHollowStables, GreenleafUndomiel, ELOSHAZZY, and Aileen Autarkeia

I'll try to update as soon as I can.

Until next time, **BYE!**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING**

…**..**

In hindsight, maybe firing the explosive arrows at four o'clock in the morning while everyone was asleep was a bad idea. If he had thought this through then he wouldn't have an angry Tony Stark yelling at him for it. Stupid nightmares, stupid Tony Stark.

"…And I told you a thousand times not to fire those things in the tower until I get the walls reinforced to handle Hulk-Level damage! Why is it so hard for you people to listen to me?!"

'_I can think of a number of reasons why,'_ thought Clint, but he decided to keep that remark to himself as went to collect his arrows, but unfortunately Stark beat him to it. The annoying asshole.

As the billionaire picked up another arrow he said, "You really need to stop it with these graveyard hours, Birdie. They're not good for your health. And it's starting to disturb the other tenant's sleep."

Clint snorted in disbelief at the comment. "This is coming from the guy who holes himself up in his lab for days on end? The guy who needs to be reminded to eat and drink by Jarvis and Pepper? Who are you to be giving me advice about working late?"

"For your information, Birdie, the work I do down in my lab is super important. It benefits the team and the world. So I have a valid excuse."

If there was one thing that Tony was good at, it would be directly and indirectly insulting people. "Pretty sure that my aiming skills have been aiding the team and the world too, Stark," Barton mumbled half-heartedly before he reached down to retrieve his quiver. A sudden dizzy spell washed over him which caused him to stumble a little. He managed to stop himself from falling flat on his face, but he knew the genius had caught the slip-up.

"Geez Barton, way to prove me right," Tony said before he placed a steadying hand on his teammate's arm. "You definitely need some sleep because honestly, you look like crap."

Clint was three seconds away from telling Tony where he could stick that comment, but he was too tired to argue. Plus Stark was giving him a weird look that could've almost been mistaken for concern. Pfft, as if. "Alright, I'll go to bed. Just give me my arrows back."

"Yeah, no Barton, I think I'll hang on to these for a while. Maybe after I'm sure that you've gotten more than five minutes of sleep, then I'll give them back to you."

"Why you irritating bastard!"Annoyance was starting to drown out the exhaustion and the archer was about to lunge at the billionaire when the elevator doors opened and Bruce walked out. No doubt he came to inspect the cause of the explosions. His tired coffee brown eyes looked back and forth between the two men, trying to gauge which one was guilty. Before Barton could react Tony had shoved the arrows into his arms and took a few steps away from him.

"It was all Barton. I tried to stop him."

Barton flinched when Bruce graced him again with the Disappointed Face. Today was gonna suck.

**XxXxXxX**

Clint stifled a yawn as he walked into the Director's office. After being confronted by both Banner and Stark he had retreated back up to his room and slept for thirty blissful nightmare-free minutes before he had to wake up and get ready for his meeting with Fury.

"Good morning, Agent Barton. I hope you're able to stay awake for this meeting," said Fury.

"Of course, sir," replied Clint before taking a seat in front of the one eyed man's desk. "So, what did you call me in for?" His question was answered when the other man handed him a folder containing a few pictures of a familiar looking man inside.

"This is Agent McCray, and word is that you attacked him and dumped his body into a dumpster." Fury then laced his fingers together, tucked them underneath his chin, and gave the archer a blank stare. "You wanna explain that one to me?"

'_Son of a…'_ thought Clint as he raked a hand through his dark blond hair. He thought that fucker looked familiar and now he suspected that this was a setup to get him into even more trouble than he already was. "Director Fury, first let me just say that Agent McCray started it."

Fury wasn't impressed.

But Clint didn't care if his response sounded childish, it was the truth, damn it and he had the slashes on his skin to prove it! He hadn't gone looking for trouble that morning and he sure as hell didn't go looking for a SHIELD agent to beat up on. He spoke this to Fury in hopes of making the man realize that he was innocent. Hopefully that wasn't asking for too much.

The one eyed man sighed. "Did you have to leave him in the dumpster, Barton? Couldn't you have left him somewhere else?"

Hawkeye shrugged his shoulders. "I'm pretty cranky in the morning and when people try to kill me." When the older man sighed again Clint knew there was more to the story. "What else did this agent say?" He had a gut feeling that him he wasn't going to like what he about to hear.

"Agent McCray said that he had a feeling that you were under the influence."

Time seemed to have stopped as Clint let the words echo through his head. Under the _**influence**_, that was what he was being accused with? This wasn't good, this was so not good. "Director Fury, surely you don't believe this guy! I was just going on a morning run when he started following me and then attacked me! I've already been cleared by psyche and they said that there were no traces of…"

Nick raised a hand to cease his agent's rant. "The problem isn't convincing me," he started with a frown. "It's trying to convince the Council."

Well fuck, he was in serious trouble now. The Council hated his guts since he first started working at SHIELD. No doubt they would give him a hard time about this. "What does the Council want me to do now? Do I have to have more therapy sessions?"

Fury simply shook his head. "Just don't expect any missions anytime soon. But for now, just try to stay out of trouble. Dismissed."

Clint rose from his seat and made his way to the door. "Sure thing, sir. I'll just stay in my room until this thing blows over."

**XxXxXxX**

Clint wasn't surprised when he bumped into Bruce while walking through the Helicarrier. After all, the man did mention he needed to pick up some papers from the R&D labs of SHIELD. "Afternoon Doc, you need any help carrying those folders?"

Bruce juggled the folders in his arms before finally managing to get them straight. "I think I got it. Are you done with your meeting with Director Fury? Was it anything bad?"

Clint shrugged his shoulders as he fell in step with his team-mate. "More or less, it could've been much worse."

The men continued talking before deciding to head to the cafeteria to grab a quick bite to eat. When they finally reached the mess hall a hush fell over the normally noisy area. Clint gave a sideways glance to his friend, who was obviously bothered by the silence. The sniper himself wasn't. He had grown used to it over the past few months, and if the news about Agent McCray was out, then things were only going to get worse.

Oh well, he only wanted to focus on getting some food and not worry about the whispers or angry stares pointed in his direction. Upon reaching the food window the server all but threw Clint's tray of food at him, not even trying to hide his disdain for the archer.

"Thanks," Clint muttered sarcastically before walking back to Bruce. He noticed the way the older man was staring at him and quickly said, "Don't worry about, Bruce. I'm used to it."

Banner looked scandalized. "You shouldn't have to deal with it! You're not to blame for what happened!"

"Meh what can you do?" Barton said with a shrug before turning his attention to his turkey sandwich. He felt his eye twitch at the sight of it and disposed of it on a empty table. He'd go somewhere else to grab lunch. He then turned to usher Bruce out of the food area, promising to buy them lunch at a burger place or something.

"Please tell me that there wasn't anything wrong with that sandwich," whispered the scientist as he glanced back at the forgotten lunch tray. A younger agent had gone to it and happily took a bite out of it. Five seconds later the agent was on the floor, convulsing violently while his friends were trying to figure out what the hell just happened. Eyes now wide with a tint of green Bruce turned his attention back to the man who was pulling his arm. "Clint…"

Said man tightened his hold on the doctor's arm and walked them faster out of the cafeteria. "Just don't think about it, Bruce. Take deep breathes."

"But…that could've been you!" Anger and worry filled his voice.

"But it wasn't. Everything is okay. Deep breathes; in and out. We don't need the agents to be mad at both of us if the Other Guy appears."

Bruce finally did what the archer asked, but dug his heels into the ground to stop them from walking. "How long has this been going on? Why didn't you say anything about this before?!"

"Because it doesn't matter! I can ignore it and I would appreciate it if you ignored it too."

"Ignore what?" asked a voice.

Both men turned around to see Tony Stark making his way towards them. Great, now it's a party. Clint barely withheld the need to roll his eyes in the man's presence. Banner had turned back to him, giving him a distressed look. "Do whatever you want," he muttered. He didn't wait around to hear Bruce tell Tony about him almost being poisoned. He didn't want to see the billionaire's reaction. And he didn't care to see how Tony was going to make the food server's life miserable either.

**XxXxXxX**

There was a knock on Clint's door before Tony barged in without waiting for Clint to answer. "Hey Legolas, I got you something from Burger King. And don't worry; I didn't do anything to it. I wouldn't do something like that unless it was April fool's Day. Just giving you a head's up."

The archer looked back and forth at the bag of food and the genius before finally taking it. "Thanks," he said. Inside the bag was a Whopper burger, some french fries, and chocolate pie. _'Not bad,'_ he thought while nibbling on a fry.

"Just so you know, the asshole sandwich maker has been dealt with." Tony pulled out his Stark-pad and showed the archer a disturbing picture which caused him to nearly choke on his food. "This picture has been sent to all SHIELD agents. You're welcome."

"Aw sick, Stark. I'm trying to eat here!" yelled Clint, but he couldn't stop himself from laughing. "You didn't have to do that for me."

Tony scoffed at this. "Of course I did. We're team-mates, friends, Avengers! We avenge each when one of us is done wrong! I'd do it again in a heartbeat and get the whole team involved!"

"You just like causing trouble," Barton accused.

Stark gave a shrug. "Well…yeah, that too."

The two men sat in a comfortable silence, one eating a burger while the other stole french fries. Clint could tell that Tony wanted to ask him something so he said, "What is it?"

"Is Asshole sandwich maker the reason why you don't eat some of the team's food?"

"…What?"

Stark's brown eyes grew with horror. "That is the reason! That's why you never eat Bruce's almost-better-than-sex spaghetti!"

"Calm down, Stark! That isn't—"

"It all makes sense now. Bruce makes the world's best spaghetti, and you won't eat it because you're afraid that someone is going to poison you like they did today! Why didn't I realize this befo—"

"TONY!" Clint let out a sigh of relief when the man finally stopped talking. Surprise was on his face, either because the use of his first name, or the fact that Clint also threw a french fry at him to get his attention. "That isn't the reason why I don't eat Bruce's or the team's food. I trust you guys."

Tony gave the blond a skeptical look. "Then why deny yourself the pleasure of eating Bruce's spaghetti?"

"…I don't like mushrooms."

The other man relaxed a little bit. "So what, you allergic to them?"

"No…"

"You don't like the taste of them?"

"That's not it either."

Tony threw his hands in the air in exasperation, because what other reason was there? "Then what's the problem, Katniss?!"

Heat was starting to spread across the sniper's face before he turned to look the other way. "It's a stupid reason. And if I tell you then you'll laugh, and then I'll have to punch you in the face." To Barton's surprise Tony donned a serious face.

"I promise I won't laugh. You have my word."

Clint weighed the pros and cons of telling the older man his secret before finally giving in. "T-There was this documentary on TV late one night that I watched because nothing else was on. It showed this one ant that was acting crazy and whatever. The British narrator guy said that the ant had been infected with some kind of mind control spores and they'll make the ant go find a high leaf and clamp down on it with its jaws. The ant would soon die and then this mushroom looking thing would sprout from the dead body and then make more spores to infect the ant's colony and any other bug in the area."

"Yikes," Tony muttered, thankfully still not laughing. He was definitely creeped out by this.

"Yeah, just one ant can take out an entire colony. It's actually kinda funny because if the ants see that one of their own is acting funny they'll dispose of the body somewhere far away from their home. Heh, even ants know how to quarantine."

Stark nodded his head as he let the information digest in his brain. That weird serious expression was still on his face. "Just so you know, we're not gonna quarantine you if you go blue eyes again."

Clint sighed. "Tony…" he started, but the other man interrupted him.

"I'm serious, Clint. We'll smack you in head as often as you need us to in order to get you back to normal. But we're not going to just…get rid of you. We're a team!" When the younger man finally nodded he rose up from his seat and headed towards the door. "I'll suggest to Brucie that he doesn't add mushrooms next time he cooks spaghetti. Hopefully that doesn't alter the taste too much."

"Hopefully," Clint muttered as he balled up the hamburger wrapper and tossed it in the trashcan. "Thanks for…" The archer paused in thought. Despite the older man being a complete asshole at times, he had given him a room to live in, didn't laugh when he told about his mushroom phobia, and he did "avenge" him. "…you know, stuff."

Tony chuckled. "And you're welcome for stuff."

Once the billionaire left the room Clint began to finish the rest of his food. He had a feeling that the man would tell Bruce about his dislike of mushrooms, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He knew the two scientists wouldn't try to exploit this weakness like others would. That, he was thankful for.

'_But still…'_ Clint thought as he stared up at the ceiling. It was supposed to be comforting that the team wouldn't put him away if he got turned into a weapon for the bad guys again. But still…what if it took more than a blow to the head to stop him next time, what if he hurt more people? He didn't want to admit it, but he had grown rather fond of his new teammates and would never forgive himself if he attacked them again.

He wouldn't let that happen again.

"Hey Jarvis."

"Yes Master Barton?" asked the robotic British voice from the ceiling.

"You'd do anything to protect Tony, right? You wouldn't let anyone or anything hurt him?"

"That is correct, Master Barton. Why do you ask?"

Clint wasn't sure if disembodied butler sounded hesitant or if it was just his imagination. "I need to ask you a big favor."

**END CHAPTER**

…

Whoo, this chapter took forever to write. Review and stuff!

Thanks for the reviews from: Sandy-wmd and pottyandweezlb89. And thanks for all the follows. :)

Until next time, **BYE!**


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